Jiraiya's Rough Draft
by Silberias
Summary: Jiraiya is hurrying home to Tsunade, his head spinning with plot bunnies, on a personal mission to reveal his feelings for her as well as start trying to live out the happy-ending of his newest rough draft of a novel.


Because I can't get it out of my head that Tsunade and Jiraiya really deserve a happy ending, I went and did this. Not sure if I'll continue it or anything, but it would be interesting...Aahh scary thoughts of trying to write three stories at once! But now that I've said I might continue it my brain actually wants to! Ack! Well, yes, hmm. Indeed.

This story takes place...in their youth-I'm imagine a couple of 18 year olds here...

Enjoy!

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As he hurried through the gates, Jiraiya was anxious to see Tsunade—the eight month mission had taught him a lot of things about himself, about what he wanted in life, and he needed to tell her that he loved her—really _loved_ her— as soon as he could. Hopefully she'd meant it when she said she would wait around for him to come home, hopefully she didn't punch him through a building for being three weeks late coming back from the recon mission Sensei had sent him on. And hopefully even if she did punch him through a building, there would be lots of reunion/make-up sex involved for the two of them.

He arrived back in Konoha just after dawn when the only people awake were Genin teams and their Jounin-sensei, which meant that the hospital didn't open for another two hours—Genin had to learn how to cope when medical aid wasn't available, after-all—so Tsunade would probably be at home, getting dressed or just getting up, or still sleeping even—

_It was the darkest part of the night and Jun could only run a finger over Naoko's features, her nose, her lips, in a vain hope to memorize her face before he left. The king's mission was one only Jun could complete, and a woman like Naoko, a princess in her own right, wouldn't wait the years it would take for him to return to her. He'd had tonight, and that would need to be enough._

—Except in his first draft there had been no Jun, no Naoko, no king—there hadn't even been a brush set to paper, only his lips against Tsunade's as they moved together. He had told Sensei that he had matters to settle before leaving on such a long solo mission and his teacher had given him three days to prepare. Jiraiya had spent 67 of his allotted 72 hours near Tsunade, either in her home or following her around as she worked.

They had been tentatively growing a romantic relationship in the months before his mission, because he had realized that suddenly other Jounin were taking notice of his Tsunade-hime and that if he actually wanted her he would have to actually work to get her. There were men around, he realized, who would accidentally play on her heartstrings, men who weren't strong enough to survive life as shinobi, men who would die on her, men who weren't _him_. Plus, Tsunade had a type—tall, silvery haired, caring—and a not a few Jounin shared those traits with himself. Hatake Sakumo and an upstart named Dan came to mind—Sure Hatake seemed pretty committed to the single life these days, and Dan was a bit more mopy than Tsunade typically preferred, but they were rivals and a worry.

When he'd been assigned the mission they had been teetering at the precipice of starting a more _intimate_ physical relationship, and it was the length of the mission which pushed them over that edge. For those three days, Jiraiya had considered it his mission to make sure Tsunade never looked anywhere else than him for someone to share a bed with, to make sure that she never wondered for a moment about his devotion to her, to let her know that every lovers' scene he wrote was because she was his muse. The kiss he'd gotten at the end of that mission had made it seem like he had succeeded.

His current mission to find her was, however, stalled for the moment. Tsunade wasn't at home; her house was empty and seemed to have been empty for at least a week. She might have been sent on a mission, it wasn't unheard of and Sensei wasn't one to let an excellent medic like Tsunade just stay in Konoha when high-risk missions became a lot _less_ high-risk when there was someone to patch people up. Jiraiya didn't actually go inside since all he needed to do was search out for her chakra signature. Something nagged at him that she _was_ in the village, just not at home.

The training grounds then—she was known to occasionally spend an early morning pummeling someone or something into utter oblivion out in the higher clearance training grounds. It would be fun to catch her at the end of such a workout; he was exhausted from his mission but not so tired as to be averse to something to help them both start the day out relaxed and a little sleepy—

_"Sensei, you can't—I—"_

_"You what, Jiraiya-kun?" Sandaime's voice was the epitome of caring concern but looking into his tired eyes told Jiraiya that the only person qualified for the mission other than himself was the Hokage—and that it was obviously vital if the Hokage himself had even considered going. It didn't matter that next week was when he planned on treating Tsunade to an anniversary dinner of some sort, that next Tuesday marked two months together without a hospital visit for him because of her._

_Jiraiya couldn't very well tell his Genin-sense that he planned on seducing his female teammate less than ten days from now—the most he could ask for was time to "prepare for his mission," and hope that it was enough to show Tsunade that she didn't need any sort of enhancements to make herself beautiful to him—that she was his princess already._

—But the training grounds were a bust, one which did not include a feisty blond kunoichi. Jiraiya hated to do it, but he turned his feet towards the hospital. Maybe going to Sensei would be quicker, but Jiraiya wanted to find her himself. He had realized after getting her first letter a month ago—dated two weeks after he'd left—that he loved her, he really loved her and he wanted nothing more than to abandon the mission and sprint home as fast as flash-stepping could take him. Just before he finished his mission he received a large package addressed to him in a hand he didn't know, but the box was filled with her letters.

He hadn't had a chance to read all of them, he was trying to pace himself. There was a growing sense of worry in their tone, but he couldn't tell if it was because of her personal life or if it was his lack of response—he _had_ remembered to tell her that while he could get mail he couldn't respond, he _had_ to have told her that before he left.

The hospital rewarded him with her chakra signature and cleared his earlier concerns—Tsunade had an office with a cot in it and sometimes she would go several days without returning home, it must have been a rough few days recently. He congratulated himself a little on coming home in working order and in one piece, because then she wouldn't fuss over him through her exhaustion. With a wan but somehow still cocky smile he wallwalked up to the floor he sensed her on and over to the window where she was probably with a patient.

The early morning light struck her hair and made it look like she had a crown to rival a Cloud Village princess, but he only noted that fact absently as he swiftly broke into her room. _Her room_. His Tsunade had been admitted to the hospital, and he felt a stab of guilt at having been away from her when he could have protected her. Could he have slept a shorter time in that tavern? Could he have pressed on another few hours past midnight the day after that?

She didn't wake up as he stepped to her side, only twitching a little as he brushed a thumb across her cheek—normally she almost broke his wrist slapping his hand away when he did that, she must have given herself extreme chakra-exhaustion, something she was prone to do. Somehow that relieved him, that she was still his Tsunade-hime after almost a year's absence.

_Jun kept his head down so that passing servants couldn't look at him and see his face. In the morning bustle a shy monk was largely ignored, and it was with ease that he slipped into Naoko-hime's rooms. _

_She was sleeping on her windowsill, probably having stayed up late to watch the stars. He smiled wryly that she'd done so in one of her best gowns, but he didn't mind the view he had of his own personal star, the one which had guided him home after his long absence. The rumors he had heard coming back into the country had included the information that the King's niece refused to marry, turning down suitor after suitor—_

And that was when another's heartbeat, another's breathing, reached his ears. There was no chakra signature, which made it all the more alarming that they were in her room at this hour—had she moved on and found a civilian who wouldn't leave her all the time like he would? She had _promised_ she wouldn't, maybe not that many words but she _had_. Swallowing what were _not_ acid tears, Jiraiya straightened and turned around to face his rival—and felt all the breath go out of himself.

Tsunade woke up, he could tell, at the intense chakra-flare his emotions gave off. He didn't turn to look at her, however, because he was transfixed by the little cradle tucked against the wall—as well as the little yellow haired baby sleeping in it. He _knew_ before she even started to speak, her voice dry from sleep and weariness. That child was his, there was no other option because he had been Tsunade's first and she had been his for months before his mission. No other explanation made sense.

"His name is Minato, but if you don't like that we can change it. He was born a week ago, premature but with some medical ninjutsu he was fine. He _is_ fine. Will you bring him here?" his limbs felt like lead as he crossed the room, even as his heart started to burst with warmth—he was a father, and Tsunade hadn't tried to kill him yet, and he was a _father_. He eventually found how to hold the infant and the boy whuffled into his shirt for a moment, scenting at something.

"Sensei said not to cloud your focus by telling you, that you wouldn't be able to write back anyway. It hurt that he made me do that to you, Jiraiya," Tsunade said, sitting up and unbuttoning her hospital gown. Jiraiya felt breathless yet again as he handed Minato—already half awake—to his princess, in awe as he picked out his own face in the baby's. Tsunade held the kid so she could kiss his forehead.

"He needs to get a nose for you, and he won't get it with you standing halfway across the room—Get in here before I hit you." Jiraiya needed no more encouragement after that, stripping down to just his pants and settling himself behind her in the bed. Her hips were changed from before he'd left, but as he wrapped his arms around her he decided he liked the change. He rained kisses on her neck and shoulder as he spoke.

"Tsunade-hime, I decided I was going to say this to you while I was running through Grass Country—I was going to wake you up and make you hear me, or find you wherever you were—"

"Jiraiya, spit it out, I'm trying to feed your son who is more curious about his father's hair than his breakfast," Tsunade groaned, trying to block his access to her shoulders by tilting her head. She never really was into early morning trysts, and somehow her reluctance made Jiraiya even happier at the situation—she wasn't Tsunade the Mother, she was Tsunade as _a_ mother. Her skin was soft under his lips as he spoke into the skin below her ear.

"Minato doesn't change this, is what I'm trying to say, I'm saying I would have said it anyway—I love you."

He didn't have to see her face to know her smile, soft and beautiful and just for him. But he _had_ planned on their reunion being the inspiration for the crowning scene in his newest story—Jun and Naoko joyfully reunited, married, and graphically in love. Maybe he could tweak it a little, he hadn't actually written it down yet.

"Of course Minato _has_ changed one thing—I was going to keep you to myself for a week or two to get a jumpstart on having a family, and to reacquaint myself with some of the finer points of your lovely anatom—_hurhhgh_."

Tsunade's elbow found its way to his ribs with the ease of long practice, and Jiraiya was a smart enough man to shut the hell up.

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Review?


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